The Tempest A.J. Scudiere (books to read in a lifetime .TXT) 📖

“All right,” Radnor called out again, waving his hands dramatically. Everybody had been seen and all positions addressed. “Put them down.”

Cage wondered if he was supposed to memorize who was new and who was Radnor’s “old guard” in that short period of time. But he would just have to wait and find out. His new boss was plowing forward.

“Before I get started, I want to be sure everyone understands. We're on a time crunch for a number of reasons. We started this project about six months ago. Some of you newbies were hired to come in and help with Phase Two. We were on track, and we did this.”

Jabbing his hand toward the screen, as though that helped the clicker, he popped up a picture of a cleared field with spanking new pylons being sunk into the ground. In the next picture, people were taking measurements and Cage recognized some of the people who were in the room.

“We got the environmental impact report done. We got everything measured, and we started the install.” He pointed to the picture and then to the wall. “This setup is less than one mile that way … and then we got this.”

When he clicked the images again, Cage again saw the same field, only this time, some of the pylons were bent. Debris was strewn all over the field, wood and metal and plastic everywhere. Smashed dark glass fragments revealed that some of the solar panels had not survived the onslaught.

“So now we've been kicked back for two reasons. One, we lost the work that we already did.” Radnor was striding up and down the stubby aisle now, hands on his hips. Those who were sitting closest to the center of the room were leaning back to avoid his elbows as he rotated, his anger at the situation radiating through the small space.

Radnor appeared not to notice. “And two—we have to redesign. Clearly, what we had was not as strong as we thought. So, here's where we're aiming next.”

He jabbed at the wall again, his hand dwarfing the tiny remote that he held. This time, the picture showed on his back and his shadow was cast directly into the middle of the image. His heavy sigh and a few choice swears were clear as he tried to get himself to the front corner of the room and out of the way.

This time the image was not a photo, but a drawing. Cage tilted his head to examine it.

“This is the new plan. We've expanded. So we've moved to a new location. Also, the hope is that the new location won't take quite the hit that this last one did.” Radnor looked around the room again as though searching for a team of superheroes that he just knew wasn’t there. “We need a redesign. Old guard, hands up again. Newbies, I want you to look at them. When they tell you something won’t work, ask them why. And listen.”

He paused for only a moment. “Now newbies, hands up again. Old guard, I want you to listen when they give you new ideas. We can't dismiss stuff just because we don't think it will work. We need ideas.” He emphasized each word in the last sentence.

There was nothing like coming into a project in crisis, Cage thought. He could have gotten a job where he wore a suit and showed up at an office building every day. But he wouldn’t have been with his sister, and honestly, what good biology jobs existed in office buildings? At best, he would have been wearing a lab coat.

He and Joule had opted for this. No office buildings, just temp trailers like this, field work that was plausibly backbreaking. He didn't really know what to expect.

Radnor was still waving his hands around. “We need to think outside of the box!”

Cage watched as Joule’s glance flicked toward him. She managed not to roll her eyes, but he could still see the thoughts in her head. Did he really just say “outside of the box”?

Cage nodded that yes, Radnor had. But the man was speaking—or booming—again, and they needed to pay attention.

“The goal is to take today to examine the old site.” Radnor gestured for emphasis, and Cage once again sipped the coffee in front of him. His had cream and sugar. Next to him, he could smell that Joule’s version was black. Seemed fitting.

“I want us to get as much as we can out of today, though you will be able to come back and re-examine this site later if you need to. This building—” He pointed up over his head, “—will remain here and we'll be erecting another like it, but larger—” He smirked as though he understood that he’d been whacking his new employees with his elbows as he paced around. “For today, I want all hands on deck and everyone talking. Out we go!”

As Radnor marched down the short aisle, he blocked the light again. Setting his clicker on the last table and carrying nothing in his hands, he hollered to them all. “Leave your laptops but bring your phones. Take pictures and make copious notes.”

He threw the door open, letting in the sunlight as he led the way outside. As Cage pushed past him with the growing crowd, he heard the man mutter, “We’re going to need them.”

3

Joule stood in the field simply surveying both the work and the damage in front of her. She was a newbie—as it had been clearly declared—and she didn’t have anything of value to add yet.

She'd have sweat dripping down her spine in another hour or two. It wasn’t just hot in Alabama, the air was heavy and thick. She’d had three days to learn to dress better, but she’d opted for “first day at the new job” clothes: new khaki pants and a white button-down shirt, and her boots.

Sarah, in her overalls, clearly had no such compunction. Though Sarah was